


Waiting On Love

by Lokne



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Bad Pick-Up Lines, Child Neglect, F/M, Falling In Love, Female Echizen Ryouma, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Genderswap, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:16:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23373223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokne/pseuds/Lokne
Summary: Ryoma didn’t bother telling her parents where she was going. She knew that they were too busy with housework and paying the bills to bother wondering where she had run off to.
Relationships: Kirihara Akaya/Female Echizen Ryoma
Comments: 1
Kudos: 40





	Waiting On Love

**Author's Note:**

> A repost of an old fic of mine.

Ryoma didn’t bother telling her parents where she was going. She knew that they were too busy with housework and paying the bills to bother wondering where she had run off to. She had done it enough times in the last four years and she always came back in time for dinner. She snagged a thick jacket and cap to cover her ears. The last few days had been cold and she knew her mother would be upset if she came down with a cold. 

She jogged through her neighborhood until she came to a local park. She came here whenever she wanted to get away for a while. Ryoma would go to the street courts whenever she wanted to vent or play a decent game of tennis. But when she wanted to just think or hide away from it all, she came to the park. It was peaceful and lush. She loved how green and vibrant it was. Children were hardly there, and she had only seen a few couples walking through it every now and then. There was a small pond and a few ducks, but it was mostly empty. 

Though Ryoma’s favorite part was the bench, it wasn’t extraordinary by any means. Its paint was peeling and the wood was no longer smooth. If she wasn’t careful, splinters would riddle her clothes and prick her fingers. She loved it. She had never seen anyone else sitting there. It was too old and worn. As far as she was concerned, it was hers. A secret that she kept from her parents.

Ryoma chuckled at the thought. A stupid, old bench was a secret. Her parents wouldn’t care that she came here. But Ryoma didn’t want them to know, because then her dad would follow her to see if she was meeting a boyfriend. She wasn’t. They broke up last year. Momo was better off as her best friend. It had been too awkward to look at him in a different light. Even when they were dating Ryoma had never taken him here. No. This was just for her.

She frowned when she rounded the bend. Someone was sitting on her bench. The thought irked her. Ryoma knew that the bench belonged to the public . . . but it was hers. She sat on it more than anyone. She knew the divots, dents, and peeling paint. She knew there was a gouge down the left side, and that initials surrounded by a heart were carved into the back. 

She tapped the sleeping boy on the foot with a stick on the ground. It had been resting near his bag, so he probably found it earlier. She wanted him off the bench. He would  _ obviously _ be more comfortable sleeping on the grass a few feet away. The bench would hurt his back and give him a crick in the neck. She was helping him, really. 

“I was sleeping,” he said. She didn’t miss the irritation in his voice. She rolled her eyes. As if she hadn’t heard the snores, or seen his eyes closed. She wasn’t stupid.

“And now you’re not. I’d like my bench.” 

He squinted up at her. His eyes were a striking green. “Are your initials K.A.?”

“No.”

“Then your name isn’t on this bench. Hence, it isn’t yours.” 

Ryoma scowled at the response. It didn’t matter if her name was on it or not. He wasn’t even paying attention to her. He turned away and pillowed his head on the crook of his elbow, shutting her out before she could even defend her position. Ryoma walked farther down the path where she knew a vending machine was located. She inserted the yen she had in her pocket and chose her favorite drink. She popped the tab and drank deeply. It wasn’t the best choice to rejuvenate her, but it was better than the other choices. 

She walked back to the bench and shoved his feet off. She grinned behind her drink when he cursed and fell the rest of the way off. “Thank you.”

“Are you trying to injure me, woman?”

Maybe she should have left him asleep. He was tetchy now, and he would probably yell at her and then leave.  _ If _ he decided to leave. He had a stubborn glint in his eyes. She wasn’t sure if she liked that or not. Ryoma didn’t like people who gave up easily—they annoyed her—but tenacity also frustrated her when it wasn’t warranted. She wanted the bench and she was willing to fight for it. 

“No. I asked first.” She didn’t care if it soothed his anger or not. She had asked and he refused. She was used to getting what she wanted, so forcibly removing him from her favorite spot was the next logical action. 

He chuckled after a few minutes and sat next to her. “So you did. Do you enjoy pushing people to the ground, or am I just special?”

“It depends if they irritate me or not,” she said truthfully. She wasn’t in the habit of pushing someone around, unless wiping the floor with them at tennis counted. She wouldn’t have minded sharing the bench with him  _ too _ much in the first place if he hadn’t been so rude. Ryoma had done it before. Once. With an elderly lady.

“Is there a reason why you couldn’t find a different bench? I’m sure there are some more comfortable.” He winced and picked out a few splinters.

Ryoma sipped her juice and stared at the pond. The water was low today. She could see more of the reeds. The sky was brilliantly blue with a spattering of clouds and a warm breeze blew through the trees, ruffling the leaves. Yes. She loved the view. She loved the way it made her forget about home and school. It made her feel invisible and she loved it. No one here knew her. No one talked to her. They left her alone and let her be whoever she wanted to be: herself. 

“Hm.”

He sputtered. “That’s not an answer. Are you going to answer the question?”

Ryoma smirked at him. He was feisty in a non-pervasive way. It was interesting. Few people asked for an answer. Demanded, ordered, cajoled, etc. But rarely was she asked. Maybe it was because her attitude and blunt nature offended people. She wasn’t going to change, though. Living in America for twelve years had shaped her that way. She was used to saying—or not saying—what she wanted to. 

“No.”

“No there isn’t a reason, or no you’re not going to answer the question?”

“Either. Both.” 

“Figures.” He rubbed his eyes and leaned back. It looked like he was going to stay. Why he didn’t just shout at her and leave boggled her mind. She was used to it—people yelling at her and leaving. Plenty had done it over the years, whether it was due to something she said or did, it was the same. She only had a few friends left over from middle school, and she rarely talked to them. Perhaps it was the determination she saw in his eyes. Maybe he felt a connection to the bench as much as she did.

Ryoma chipped off more paint as they sat there in silence. It was oddly refreshing. Normally her classmates or friends would natter on about a movie they had seen, or a boy they were crushing on. Rarely would there be silence of any sort. Home was full of her mom cooking dinner and her dad watching TV. Nanako listened to music, and Ryoga had friends over whenever he could. The house was so noisy it was overwhelming at times.

She threw her can in the recycling bin. Ryoma glanced at the boy still sitting on the bench and wondered why she felt the sudden urge to say goodbye. They hadn’t talked for more than five minutes and yet . . . she shook her head and left. It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t see him again.

—

The bench was empty, and Ryoma felt disappointment well within her. It had been four days since Ryoma last saw Green Eyes, as she mentally dubbed him, and she thought about him more than she should have. His chuckle was warm and bubbly. His black hair fell into his eyes and curled around his ears. Why did he come here? He could have picked any park in Tokyo and he decided on this one. This bench. 

She sat in the same spot as last time, though the other side was empty. She normally sprawled across the whole thing and stared at the sky or the pond. She glanced at the left side and wondered why it felt strange that he wasn’t sitting next to her. Was she really so lonely that she had latched onto a complete stranger? Ryoma didn’t think so. So what was it about him that made her want to see him again?

“Back again I see. You must really be attached to this bench.”

Ryoma stared at him wide-eyed. He was here. Green Eyes. He handed her a can of ponta and drank his can of coffee. Why was he here? “Thank you.” She wasn’t sure why he remembered the drink she had last time, or why he bought it, but she wasn’t one to snub a gift. 

“Come here often?” Ryoma choked on a laugh. She spewed her drink and glared when he burst into laughter. “So you have a sense of humor. Good to know.”

“Horrible pick up line,” Ryoma said after she wiped her chin. She hadn’t expected that. Guys were normally too put-off by her personality to use a pick up line on her. She didn’t mind. Ryoma would rather not date anyone than worry about saying the right thing at the right time. 

“Don’t worry. I have more.”

“Don’t. Just don’t.” Ryoma took another drink when he beamed at her as if he had issued her a challenge. Why had she wanted to see him again? He was weird and childish. She’d bet that the next time she saw him he’d have another pick up line ready, just because she told him not to. Was that cute? She couldn’t decide.

“So”—he drew out the vowel—“what are your hobbies?”

Ryoma rolled her eyes. Her hobbies? She almost bit out a response because she came here to be alone—not really—and stopped. He was trying to make conversation. He wasn’t smooth in the slightest, and it  _ was _ amusing. She was used to Fuji or Atobe. But Green Eyes felt genuine. Tangible. She watched his flickering expression when she didn’t answer right away and sighed. If she didn’t want to answer a question, she didn’t. There was no deliberating with her. She normally didn’t talk much because everyone at home was talking; she didn’t bother trying to fight for room.

“I play tennis.” If he wanted to know more he could ask. She wouldn’t go into detail and bore him. 

“Me too!” He almost bounced in his seat and his eyes lit up. There was no denying it. He was adorable. “What position? Do you play in school?”

“Singles two. No.” She waited for the inevitable query about why she wasn’t in the tennis club, but it never came. 

He nodded as if he understood what she hadn’t said. “I heard from a friend that the women’s tennis clubs in the area aren’t that great. A few potentials, but mostly not.”

Exactly! It was why she quit the club during her first year of high school. She loved playing tennis, but it wasn’t enjoyable when her opponents were weak. She was used to playing against her dad and Ryoga. So when she joined the tennis club her freshman year of middle school she had high hopes. They crashed spectacularly. Her mom hadn’t understood when she quit, but then her mom didn’t understand most things about tennis. It confused her.

“I used to go to school with the Three Demons. They were better than everyone in the club and played singles one, two and three respectively. I could never beat them, but they challenged me. I became better because of them.”

Ryoma smiled, because he really did understand. They both wanted to be stronger and playing against weaker opponents didn’t do that. She chugged the rest of the drink and threw it in the bin. She leaned her head back and listened to him ramble about something funny that happened at school today. She wondered why she wasn’t annoyed with him yet. Normally she would have ordered him to be quiet, but the impulse wasn’t there. He wasn’t aggravating like her friends. His voice was soothing and his cheery attitude made her smile.

She watched as he gestured wildly with his hands as he explained the event like it was a movie about to hit theaters, and nodded when he looked at her. She had no idea what he was talking about but it was amusing to watch nonetheless. 

—

Ryoma bought the drinks next time. She didn’t know why she thought he would show up, but she knew he would. Green Eyes showed up ten minutes later wearing a Rikkai Dai jersey. She recognized it from middle school when Seigaku went to the Nationals. The women had the same color and design, though they wore skirts instead of shorts.

“The captain made us run laps.” Ryoma hated running laps. She knew it helped build stamina, but it was her least favorite thing to do. She would rather swing her racquet one hundred times than run laps. “Bonding exercises, he calls it.”

“Sadistic or energetic?” Ryoma had had both over the years. It was as if the captains enjoyed sending their team to run and run until they collapsed. They also never seemed to shut up. Her last captain always chirped and giggled. She shuddered. Honda Mikako had been pure evil. Anyone that awake and alert before seven in the morning got a black mark in Ryoma’s book. It took hours for Ryoma to be fully awake, and even then she still fell asleep during English.

“Energetic. He keeps saying that we must think and act like a team and our tears and sweat will unite us.”

Ryoma was thankful that she was nowhere near that guy. Honda had been bad enough. He sounded worse. She sympathized with Green Eyes.

“Want to hear the pick up line?”

She almost said no. But she couldn’t resist his eager grin and sparkling eyes. “Is it bad?” 

He gravely nodded. “It’s horrendous, I’m afraid.” He beamed when she nodded. “If I were a stop light, I'd turn red every time you passed by, just so I could stare at you a bit longer.”

Green Eyes was right. It was terrible. And sweet. 

—

The next time she went to the park, he never showed. She went home after twenty minutes. She had homework to do anyway.

—

“You’re late,” Ryoma said as soon as she saw him. Her eyes widened when she realized what she had said. He had arrived later than her before and she hadn’t cared. Why this time? She looked at the pond and frowned as she thought about it. She had waited for two hours. She hadn’t even waited that long for Momo.

“Sorry. Practice went long and we have a match on Friday. The captain gave a speech about all the hard work we’d done over the last few weeks and congratulated us. It was very moving.”

Ryoma could tell by the twitching of his lips that he was lying. He had probably been bored to tears and zoned out until he could leave. She followed him as he talked to the street vendor selling takoyaki. She didn’t know when it happened, but they had started taking turns buying each other drinks and food whenever they met. She blew on the hot food and ate it as quick as she could so it wouldn’t burn her mouth. She hadn’t had squid in weeks and the smell of it had teased her, until Green Eyes finally got the hint and offered to buy her some.

She watched as he finished the last one and waited for him to tell her his new pick up line. She didn’t know why she started looking forward to hearing them, but it became their little ritual. He would tell her a cheesy pick up line and she would either laugh or not. Some were just too bad to be funny. She had grown attached to him over the past two weeks, and she enjoyed their meetings

“Ah right. Prepare yourself for the awesome one I found last night—or was it this morning?—anyway. I was so enchanted by your beauty that I ran into that tree over there. So I'm going to need your name and number for insurance purposes.”

Ryoma chuckled. Subtle. She liked that about him. She snatched the phone out of his jacket pocket—he always kept it there—and entered her number. She chucked it back to him and smirked at his gaping expression. “Echizen Ryoma.”

“Kirihara Akaya.”

—

The sound of her phone buzzing woke her up during English. She blearily reached for it and opened the text message. 

_ If I had a star for every time you brightened my day, I'd have a galaxy in my hand. _

Ryoma smiled fondly at the message. Her boyfriend kept sending her pick up lines even though she agreed to date him four days ago. It was another tradition of theirs that she secretly loved. Ryoma glanced at the clock and wished that school would get over faster. She had a date with a bench and a boy with beautiful green eyes. She couldn’t wait.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr if you’re interested.


End file.
